


The Collarbone Press

by piecesofalice



Category: Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-18
Updated: 2009-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-04 12:51:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piecesofalice/pseuds/piecesofalice





	The Collarbone Press

  
_I have burned my tomorrows  
And I stand inside today_   
\- "Burn My Shadow", UNKLE

\---

  
_Sometimes she forgets to breathe, and her chest seems to become heavier than she thinks she can handle._

  
Then, she feels the hands on her shoulders and it seems to bring oxygen back into lungs and conciseness all around her, for now, for once.

  
\---

  
"So, uh. You and uh, Crews -"

  
"What."

  
Tidwell - _Kevin_ \- runs his hands through his hair she thought would look cleaner after a shower, but the grease seems just to be a part of who he is. He looks nervous, shirtless in her bed, the badge and glory of a Captain gone once he kissed her in a doorway and screwed her in a hallway.

  
"Your partner."

  
"What. No. God." Dani crosses her arms across her chest, and thinks of those old movies where sex faded to black and sheets seemed to be cut high for women and down low for men.

  
"Never? Uh, really?"

  
Screwing her eyes up and closing them quickly, Dani decides that any answer he gets, he isn't going to want; so she sighs and talks against the black she's put upon herself.

  
"Go have a shower, Captain. You'll be late for work."

  
\---

  
Anything Charlie knows, he doesn't say. Because he's a gentlemen, probably, or because he's thinking it's wrong, definitely, but they both know she knows about him and his ex-wife, so they sit against the hood of her car and eat their second breakfasts in silence.

  
His feet shuffle against the gravel on the ground, she scrapes a sliver of spilt coffee off the plastic disposable lid. The sky's heavy with rain, which is rare in LA, but not as rare as the lack of words spilling from her verbose redhead partner's mouth.

  
She closes her eyes again before dragging herself back behind the wheel and towards another day with another strange, strange ending.

  
\---

  
"I dunno how long this can last."

  
She knows he heard her, but he's staring at the wall.

  
"I'm not your partner, right?"

  
To be honest, no, he's not. He's not bizarre and broken up inside, he's not wordy and trivial and - for fuck's sake - _zen_. He's annoying, sure, like Charlie. He's here in her bed, obviously, and he's just finished screwing her brains out like they have nothing to hide the next day in the squad room.

  
"I wouldn't want you to be my partner, _Kevin_," and she winces at saying his name like it's sour on her tongue.

  
So she straddles him, and pushes him so far they won't come back to this conversation for fear of where it'd take them.

  
\---

  
There's brains everywhere, and she doesn't want to look but she has to.

  
"Reese."

  
"Crews."

  
"You shouldn't sleep with Tidwell anymore." And he's crouched over some dead guy's remains, just like that, and she's suddenly so angry she wants to see her shoe come out through the other side of his forehead.

  
"I'll be in the car."

  
She gets in and drives away, leaving him to clean up the mess that he couldn't possibly be blamed for.

  
\---

  
She doesn't answer her cell until she on the edge of Los Angeles, and of course it's Crews.

  
"Where are you."

  
"How _dare_ you. How fucking dare you."

  
"I don't know if that's good English, Reese," and there's something hinging on every word that he seems to be _not_ saying.

  
"I don't know if I give a damn, Crews."

  
The line hums for a good, few, long minutes. She cradles the phone between her shoulder and cheek, pulling her hair up and slipping it into elastic and away from her face.

  
"Where are you. Reese."

  
She tells him, with obvious reluctance and no real reason to in the first place, and hangs up before she can hear the danger edging at her voice. Horrible, dangerous anger, like the last time she called out her father before a table of family who had no idea they were dining with a dirty, dirty cop.

  
It was the last time she'd seen him, and her mother, and every piece of her heart seems barely in place.

  
\---

  
He finds her when the sun's melting into the tops of the far away buildings, and she's texting someone, her back to him and her hip to the car. He doesn't pry, because she's too into her activity to notice he's pulled up - or she's playing pretend because she's angry and he doesn't blame her.

  
"Reese."

  
He notices her eyes close and he moves up closer before she can tell him to get lost in that way he's gotten to know so well, as a truck screams past them in a hollow blast of noise.

  
Her breathing seems to stop at the sound, and he puts his hands on her shoulders before he can think better of it and remember that she's who she is and he's him.

  
Through the fabric of her jacket and shirt, she's not quite bony but certainly tiny. It's probably the first time they've touched, and he's warm from the car while she's cold from the potential rain and she shivers slightly before he can feel her exhale again.

  
His fingers curl down further, and touch the edges of her collarbone and it could possibly be the most beautiful thing he's felt in a long time.

  
She breathes in, holds it, and he presses slightly, holding the pressure and the silence, his body close against hers without moving and his mouth to her hair.

  
"I want you to be happy."

  
It's such a strange thing to come out of his mouth. The implications are stronger than the words, and they both think of other people in their heads and how two people can create a partnership with more strength than anything found in a bedroom.

  
She opens her eyes. There seems to be honesty in the air, and she doesn't like it.

  
"Tidwell wants to know if you and I...you know."

  
"We haven't."

  
""Obviously."

  
She holds her breath again, as the gravel scrapes under his feet and three of his fingers curl a little under her clavicle.

  
"You know about Jennifer."

  
"Yes."

  
Dani breathes out, his hands splay across her shoulders.

  
"You know about your father."

  
"Yes."

  
"I don't want secrets from you, Reese."

  
His index finger slides up her neck, slightly, and she's suddenly so confused by the linking words underneath the spoken ones because it all seems to reaffirm that this man could be the most honest one she knows.

  
That in a world full of men ready to fuck her and ruin her and treat her like shit, that there's one who just wants to accept her and keep her sane, it doesn't seem to make enough sense for her to let her guard down but it nothing seemed to be as clear cut as it used to be.

  
He presses into her collarbone again, as if to remind her he's there, and she leans against him in something like an affirmation.

  
\---

  
They stand in silence until it's Dani who breaks it - of course - with a shuddering, stuttering excuse and they stumble back into reality. Reese-and-Crews, two screw-ups against the world and as the sun sets again the Los Angeles border, there's not much else to say.

  
They climb into their separate cars, and Dani can feel her neck burning.

  
Her phone rings. She answers it, aware Crews is watching from his open car door next to her, and she turns away, rubbing her neck self-consciously and then, pulling her hair down in some petulant show of defiance like she's twelve years old and her boss isn't asking for a booty call down the line.

  
"Sure. My house. Sure thing. Twenty minutes."

  
Dani hangs up, and turns to look at her partner, but all she can see is dust.

  
\---

  
_Fin._

  
\---


End file.
